


Love Letters

by bex_xo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A story told by letters, Epistolary, F/M, Happy Ending, Jonsa Gift Exchange, Slow Burn-ish, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-07 00:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo
Summary: Jon is King in the North, Sansa is Lady of Winterfell, and they have made an even deeper bond since Jon's return from the war with the dead. Spring is here and  Jon has been called away to Karhold to treat with the remaining Free Folk about settling in the North, while Sansa runs Winterfell in his stead. Over the course of their separation, they start to write each other weekly letters, in each one they find themselves being able to open up even more to one another, eventually declaring their love.Told in five parts.





	Love Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deathsweetqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/gifts).



> this was written for deathsweetqueen on Tumblr as part of the Jonsa Gift Exchange Milestones Event. 
> 
> Our milestone is First Love Letters/First admittance of feelings.
> 
> edit: I should mention the canon is a mixture of show based canon and book based canon. Sansa was never married to Ramsay in this, and I'm kinda vague on a lot of backstory so please just go with it.

i.

 

Jon,                                                                                                                                2nd week of Spring, 306AC

You’ve only just left the courtyard with your men, and I’ve already returned to my rooms to pen this letter to you. With our farewells being so public, I had to hold back my tears, but now in the privacy of this space I’m able to let them flow freely. This morning before we parted, you asked me to stay strong for our people here while you went to act as King, and I promise I will, so I beg your forgiveness for my moment of weakness over the loss of you by my side. We haven’t spent more than a fortnight apart since you returned to us after the war, and I loathe the thought of the period you’ll be away now, but thus is the life of a King is it not?

Arya says you’ll return before we know it, and I pray she is right. Spring is here, and it’s a time for growth and prosperity for our people after the harshness of Winter. The negotiations with the remaining Free Folk _will_ go well, Tormund is well respected among them after leading the war efforts on their side and his loyalty to you runs deep. The Wall is no longer there to act as a border between our two lands, and having an understanding between our two peoples is most important for both of our futures. I _trust_ you Jon, to do what is best for all us.

Your journey to Karhold will be long and treacherous, and no doubt this letter will reach the castle long before you’ve made it there to meet with Lady Alys and Sigorn. I await your reply and will keep you and your men in my prayers my King.

Sansa

 

 

Sansa,                                                                                                                           5th week of Spring, 306AC

The roads were not nearly as treacherous as you feared my lady, but I am grateful for your prayers regardless. Tormund sends his well wishes, not exactly in those words but I will spare you here, you’re well familiar with uncouthness already. Lady Alys sends her love and extends an invitation for a future visit for you.

I’m not much for words Sansa, I’ve never been as good with them as you have, nor politics for that matter, but I wear this crown and with it I must bear the responsibilities of the North. The Free Folk’s numbers were decimated in the war, much as our own, and we need to be able to work together to rebuild the North. There is much to do, and I thank you for trusting me to do it.

There is no one better prepared for running Winterfell while I’m away, you’ve done it time and again for me. Have I ever thanked you for that? Forgive me if I’ve not, I mean no offense Sansa. You must know how important you are to me.

Keep us in your prayers still my lady, we will need them.

With warm regards, Jon

PS: I’ve never thought you weak San, and as always there is nothing to forgive.

 

 

ii.

 

 

Dearest Jon,                                                                                                                     6th Week of Spring, 306AC

Your thanks are not needed. Winterfell is my home, _our_ home and I’ve been honored to keep it and its people safe in the times you’ve been absent. A Stark must always be in Winterfell, and I’ve been elsewhere for a lifetime.

Give Tormund my best, if you’ll please. I can imagine all sorts of filthy, brawdy things from that man, many of which make me blush to even think about, but his presence is missed in these walls and is always welcomed. Also, please tell Lady Alys that I will gladly take her up on her offer and to send me a raven soon so we can discuss my visit.

In recent weeks, I’ve taken to repairing every single clothing item you left behind, I hope you don’t mind Jon. I have found that I need to keep myself busy at night to keep my mind from wondering too much about what is happening with you. I worry about negotiations, about if you’re sleeping enough, I even worry if you have enough socks with you as I darn what seems like a different pair every night. I can hear you now you know, right here clearly in my mind, telling me that I worry too much and that you do enough of that for the both of us. It’s oddly comforting.

It’s quiet here, you’d appreciate it more so than I do. Arya has gone off somewhere as she does, coming and going as she pleases and Bran is Bran, so sullen now a days with the with the weight of all he is on his shoulders. Meera helps, she’s able to break through his walls much better than I, and there is much she understands that we never will I suppose. Arya of course will be back before you will, she’s never gone for long it seems and settling the Free Folk could take you months. Please try to return to me soon Jon.

Truly, Sansa

 

 

Dear Sansa,                                                                                                                      7th week of Spring, 306AC

Since the Red Woman brought me back, I have found that I need less sleep than I did before, so please don’t worry yourself about that Sans.

I laughed out loud when I read about you darning all those socks of mine, and I apologize for having what seems like hundreds of pairs. When I decided to go to The Wall, Uncle Benjen told me to get boots in a larger size in order to wear multiple pairs of socks to keep my feet warm, and while it’s been some time since I’ve needed to do that, it’s a habit I have not seem to be able to break.  

I wish I had more to write to you about when it comes to the actual reason I’m in Karhold, but we’re slowly making way with the clan leaders of the various tribes that have come in hopes of being resettled in The Gift and other parts of The North. Tormund has been more help than I could have ever hoped for Sans, he knows how to talk to these men and woman in a way I’ve never been able to talk to our people. Honestly it reminds me of you, in a rougher, cruder sort of way, but it’s still a compliment I hope you know.

I miss Winterfell, some days I just long for the quiet and the solitude we are afforded there. I miss nights spent in your solar, you embroidering direwolves onto dresses Arya will never wear, and I reading the days letters, that’s always been the best part of my day since returning from the war. I’ll return to you soon sweet girl, I promise.

Yours truly, Jon

 

 

iii.

 

 

Dear Jon,                                                                                                                     8TH week of Spring, 306AC

I never thought being compared to Tormund Giantsbane would be so sweet, yet here I am absolutely charmed by your words. You can deny it, but I’m not the only one here that knows how to speak to our people. I might be able to ease their fears with flowery prose, but you strike loyalty into the hearts of every single person you speak to. You speak from the heart Jon, with so much conviction that Northerners willingly followed you to the end of earth, to face certain death to defend our home. That is where your true power lies, that is why you are our King.

Arya sent a raven from The Dreadfort, where she is helping Gendry with rebuilding the castle. We should have let him burn it straight to the ground when you offered him the seat and lordship, so he could build a new and all reminders of the Bolton’s could be forever gone, but the lack of resources after Winter are already a strain on most of our people. She says they built a great fire with all manner of things found in the dungeons, that they burned tapestries and banners and anything bearing the Bolton flayed man and that it would never be enough to erase what they have done to House Stark, but it’s a start. Arya also mentioned that Gendry has been thinking about what new name of his castle will be, and that when you return to Winterfell he would like a formal meeting for it all to take place. I can’t help but wonder if he’s going to ask for Arya’s hand at the same time, she says she never intends on marrying, but he looks at her like she’s his own personal sun, like his days begin and end by her alone.

Today when I put away the final pair of socks I darned for you, and I realized the space no longer smells like you while I was in your rooms and had a good cry. Not just for you, because you’ll return to me, but for Mother and Father and Robb and Rickon as well. I have forgotten what all of them smelled like, what their voices sound like, and even though you’ve only been gone a little over a month, I was so overcome with the emotion of it all I broke down into tears. I curled up onto your bed and sobbed for what must have been an hour before Meera and Bran found me, and we had a good, normal talk about our past. Bran reminded me of when we were children and you covered yourself in flour just so you and Robb could scare us younger ones in the crypts and it felt so good to laugh.

I miss you.

Forever, Sansa

 

 

San,                                                                                                                                 9th week of Spring, 306AC

I miss them too. Even your mother in a way, who owed me nothing but gave me everything by allowing me to grow up in Winterfell with all her children. I spent too long fighting the dead, and your mother is not a ghost I want to continue to fight against. I’ve made peace with my childhood and with Catelyn Stark.

When I return I’ll be sure to borrow some flour from the kitchen so we can reenact that day in the crypts, if that’s what it takes for me to hear that laugh of yours.

While razing The Dreadfort to the ground would have fulfilled both our needs for vengeance, there was too many people who needed shelter to ride out the rest of Winter after the war, so destroying a perfectly good castle was out of the question. I do agree it needs a new name however, and will happily set up a meeting with Gendry to discuss it after I return home, and if he doesn’t ask for Arya’s hand I am going to suggest it myself. I caught them once, a fortnight or so before I left for Karhold, and it was clearly not their first time together. Arya swore she was drinking moon tea, but who knows what they are doing in the privacy of his own castle. She seemed to think you were unaware, but I feel as if you’re more aware than you let on. Either way, a maiden’s cloak will come in handy soon and there’s no one better to make it than you.

I hope to be able to leave Karhold within the month. Things are progressing so quickly now, clans have already started to settle in the Gift and along where the Wall once stood. The Free Folk are a proud people, and no one has agreed to kneel, but their leaders have promised to follow our laws and pay a tax portion that I have deemed appropriate. They look forward to trading at the local markets, sharing their knowledge with our people, and rebuilding their lives. They do not call me King Jon, but many of the former soldiers call me The White Wolf still, and refer to you as The Red Wolf. Tormund has made you into some sort of legend with his people Sansa, for all your goodness and beauty, I wouldn’t be surprised if the young girls start to make songs about you.

I miss you too Sans, more than you even know.

Jon  

 

 

iv.

 

 

Jon,                                                                                                                               10th week of Spring, 306AC

I always dreamed of my life being a song, back when I was a child and naive to this world, and now that dream is coming true, but at what cost? If I had known back then what I know now, I would have never have hoped for more than Winterfell and the North. I’ve done so much wrong Jon, I know the Free Folk have no idea about all the tragedies I’ve gone through or the mistakes I have made, but I hope that one day I’m worthy of their admiration the same way you are.

I have started a maidens cloak for House Stark, one that can be passed down from one generation to the next. I remember seeing the old one as a child, Father showed it me once after I pestered him for weeks about it. When we went through all the items that the Boltons stored during their tenure at Winterfell, the cloak was not one of them. I have wondered if Father had brought it South with us to Kings Landing for my wedding to Joffrey, but even then he was so reluctant to betroth me I can’t imagine he would have wanted to travel with a family heirloom. Regardless, the old cloak is lost to us it seems. I do look forward to finishing this new one, for everything it will symbolize, a fresh start for House Stark. I only hope that when I get a chance to wear it, it’s in a marriage of my choosing.

I want to tell you that I’ve grown use to your absence, that I have found solace in the Godswood and with prayer, that keeping myself busy has kept me from missing you. I wish I could say all those things Jon, and I wish all those things were true, but they are not. Instead I feel as if a part of me is missing, that when we parted in the yard weeks ago you took a piece of me, and that piece of me is my heart. I feel like such a fool even writing these words, but I don’t think I would ever dare to speak them out loud to you, but there is such a longing in my chest it feels like it’s about to burst. You probably think of me as a silly, fanciful girl Jon, and you can forget these words if you wish to, I just needed to let you know.

Always, Sansa

 

Sansa,                                                                                                                        11th week of Spring, 306AC

My darling, my sweet girl, if I carry your heart, mine must be in Winterfell with you. Tormund has taken to calling me a miserable sod and telling anyone who will listen that I was livelier in death than I have been these past few weeks. Who knew you could miss someone so acutely that it would affect every single part of your being?

I feel like there is much that needs said between the two of us, and we have all the time in the world to discuss everything when I return home to you, but please don’t think yourself silly or fanciful. I have been holding myself back from admitting all sorts of things to you since before I even left, imagining every possible outcome in my mind while chiding myself for being silly to think you could ever return my affections. I have never been so grateful to be proven wrong love. I must have reread the last paragraph of your last letter over a thousand times before I finally was able to believe what I was reading, to have proof that everything I’ve been feeling has been real.

It all started when I returned from the war. As we made our way closer to the castle, there you stood up on the ramparts, watching the cavalcade of soldiers as we marched closer the walls of Winterfell. Your hair was loose, waving in the wind, and all the sudden it hit me that you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I was awestruck by you Sansa, just like I was at Castle Black. By the time I made it into the yard, you were there waiting for me, looking every it a lady but launching yourself at me with so much force we nearly ended up on the ground. I should have kissed you then, I would have kissed you then if I didn’t think you would have slapped me.

Forgive me for waiting so long.

Yours, Jon.

 

 

v.

 

 

Jon,                                                                                                                            13th week of Spring, 306AC

As always, there is nothing to forgive. We’ve wasted so much time already Jon, why spend a moment more on anything else?

I read your last letter in disbelief, I’m sorry it took so long for me to respond, but the words on the page were ones I have been longing for but never would have dared to believe would come from you. Father once told me, when I was young and foolish, that he would make a match for me who would be brave, gentle and strong, and those were the last things I thought I wanted in my future husband, yet those are the qualities I adore most in you.

You are so brave. You have fought countless enemies since you joined the Nights Watch, you infiltrated the Free Folk, you fell in love with someone forbidden to you, you scaled the Wall itself to protect your cover and get back to your brothers. You fought at Hardhome tooth and nail to return to Castle Black so you could lead against the fight against the dead. You died Jon, and were brought back only to continue to fight for me, for our home. Jon, you lead an army to defend all of Westeros from the greatest threat we’ve ever seen.

You are so gentle. You have done everything in your power to protect me since we reunited at Castle Black. Even when we’re cross with each other, you’re gentle with me. I have never once considered the thought that you could hurt me, that you would hurt me like Joffrey did, like Petyr did. You’ve held me when I’ve cried over all we’ve lost, you’ve given me comfort when I have felt too overwhelmed by the demons of my past, you’re the one who woke me from my nightmares those first few nights. You speak to me gently always, and you touch me as if I’m the most precious thing you’ve seen.

You are so strong. You have endured much in your lifetime, the stigma surrounding your birth, the reality of your real parentage. You’ve loved and you’ve lost, but that’s never stopped you from continuing to love and to grow. Our people made you King, a title you never wanted, but weaker men have pined over a throne and a crown until that’s all they can imagine, while you take ruling in stride and with profound respect to your responsibilities. A lesser man would buckle at what you’re doing, yet you’re out there leading our people to a better future, leading them with your own strength.

I have loved you longer than I can even start to imagine. It could have been upon our first reunion, when you were still a brother to me, the savior I needed to help me take back what had been lost, but I think that was just the beginning. No, I knew how I felt for you when Bran and Howland Reed sat us down with Arya to discuss your parentage. You were distraught, rightfully so, but all I could think was now you were no longer my brother and I was free to feel whatever I wanted to about you.

I long for your return Jon. I long to feel your body pressed against mine, for the scratch of your beard against my neck, for your hands learning the curves of my figure. I dream of you, oh what filthy things I dream of, I should be ashamed to even be writing that, but anything to make you return to me faster my love.

I love you. Please come home, to me and the maidens cloak I will have ready to use.  

Love, Sansa

 

Sans,                                                                                                                              14th week of Spring, 306AC

I write this in the flickering light of the last ever fire I will have in my rooms at Karhold. Tomorrow morning my men and I will be heading back to Winterfell, we’ve come to an accepted agreement with the Free Folk and I have much more pressing matters to deal with at home.

When I return to Winterfell, I plan on dropping to my knees and promising my eternal servitude so long as you describe your filthy dreams to me in detail. Do you even realize what you do to me sweet girl? You have unmanned me with your words in ink, can you even imagine how desperate I will be to hear these words spoken from your own lips?

I dream of you, of your lips and what they might feel like beneath mine. I fantasize of running my fingers through the red silk of your hair, fanned out around you while you’re underneath me. I think of cream colored skin, covering every inch of your lovely body and mapping all your hills and valleys out with my lips. Gods Sans, I dream of your cunt and what it might feel like as I finally get a chance to taste you, and how warm it will be wrapped around my cock, those long legs yours thrown over my shoulder. I imagine what that beautiful face of yours will look like when you’re crying out from all the pleasure I plan on giving you.

I’ve taken myself in hand more than I can remember over the last few weeks. I think of you, always you, only you, when I bring myself to my peak, your name rolling off my lips as I wrap my hand around my cock in the privacy of my rooms. I wonder if you do the same, if you touch yourself under your furs at night, whimpering and sighing and thinking only of me as your fingers bring yourself to peak. It’s a lovely sight in my mind, Sans, as obscene as it may seem.  

Please have that maidens cloak ready for use, for the minute I enter those gates I’ll be ready to marry you, I don’t want to waste another moment with not being able to call you my wife. We can plan a proper wedding and feast for the following weeks, but I fully intend on taking you to bed as my wife the first night I am back in Winterfell, because I can’t imagine spending another night under the same roof as you without you by my side.

I love you, my darling, my sweet girl. I’ll be home soon. Wait for me.

Love, Jon

 

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